


Blindsighted

by Emme2589



Category: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-17
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-11-21 07:00:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 18,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18138932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emme2589/pseuds/Emme2589
Summary: After the Professor makes a near-full recovery from a violent assault, he and his three protege, Luke Emmy and Flora, follow the person behind the attack in hopes of finding the truth and stopping him from committing his horrific crimes. There's only one catch; Hershel Layton is now completely blind.





	1. Chapter 1

The sunlight pierced through the thick clouds for the first time in two months. It glistened off the windows of the buildings along the paved streets of London, welcoming the change from the constant rainfall of the previous dreary days. One lone man in a brown top hat admired the dappled light as he let his teacup warm his fingertips.

He wasn’t always one for cafes, but during early morning when the breeze was cool and the sunlight was weak, many people were either still asleep or at work, leaving small businesses relatively empty and peaceful. And of course, he was always one for a good cup of tea.

“Professor!”

Layton looked up from the window, catching his young friend Luke wave from a table where he sat with his mother, Brenda. He picked up his bag to move to the empty seat across from his mentor.

“What are you doing here?” Luke’s smile was bright, “I thought you didn’t wake up early in the morning.”

“That’s exactly what your father used to say.” Layton laughed, placing his teacup on the table, “I managed to get all my work done early last night, to answer your question.”

“You should go to bed early every night.” Luke let his gaze drift out the large window, “Maybe you’d see me more often, since me and Mom come here every day.”

“Hm. Perhaps.” Layton brushed off the topic. He’d already had an earful from everyone he knew, “Every day?”

“Yep. I always get a hot chocolate.” Luke gingerly sipped from his tall mug, “They make it with extra whip cream here.”

The two lapsed into silence as Luke pulled out his notebook to jot something down, tapping his pen to his lip as he thought.

“Hey Professor, something troubling came up the other day.”

Layton tried to get a glimpse of Luke’s notes, but the boy covered the page with his arm before he could see, “What sort of troubling?”

“Troubling as in mysterious.” Luke leaned back in his chair to review what he'd written. He was tall enough now that his feet almost touched the floor, “I’ve been hearing all about it, but the details don’t add up. They keep contradicting each other. I wish we had more information, because I’m sure that it would make more sense if-!”

He was interrupted by the shattering of glass.

Layton jumped from his chair. The window beside the counter had exploded into shards of broken glass, and the rock that had broken it slammed into the register. The cashier screamed, covering her head and shoulders to shield herself from the broken glass. Someone stepped through the new opening, lifting the rock again to hold it over his head threateningly.

“Gimme all the money in the register, or I'll bash yer skull in.”

“P-Professor...” Luke trembled as he gripped the handle of his bag.

Layton narrowed his eyes, “Hey!”

“Oi?” the intruder was wearing a black hood which obscured most of his face, “Is that the famous Professor Layton I see?”

“Step away from the counter!” Layton carefully stepped through the sea of broken glass.

“Or you'll do what? Beat me up? With arms like that!?”

“Professor, look out!”

The rock sailed over Layton’s shoulder as he just barely managed to dodge. Luke yelped as the rock landed near him.

“Luke!” Brenda ran to him, “Stand up! Let's go!”

Layton jumped away from another blow, bringing his fists up to protect his head. The criminal threw a few more punches, and one of them connected with Layton’s jaw. The recoil threw his hat off his head, but he tried to ignore it as he brought his arms up to deflect his attacker, his feet just finding purchase on the polished floor.

“PROFESSOR!” Luke ran to grab the tall hat.

“Luke! Call the police!” Layton swung his fist to deflect another blow, just making out Luke and Brenda disappearing behind the counter to find its phone.

“You ain't gettin’ outta this so easy!” the attacker shot his hand out to grab the collar of Layton's jacket, “You think you can be a hero all the time!? Don't make me laugh!”

Almost there. Luke was already dialing. If he could just stall long enough...!

“Let me go!” Layton tried to twist out of the man's grasp, but he’d already got a hold on both sides of his collar. His feet lifted off the ground as his hands went up to the hands that were restraining him, dangerously close to suffocation.

“You put up a big fight for someone so small. I'm impressed, Layton.”

Layton tried to at least see beneath the hood to catch a glimpse of his identity, but it was no use. He couldn't even see the man's eyes.

“Still. Not good enough.”

“Professor, _NO!”_

Layton was thrown over the man's shoulder. The sound of shattering glass echoed across the small building, and off the buildings outside.

He'd been thrown upside-down through the giant window.

He landed on his head, and a sickening _Crack!_ reverberated through his skull as he fell onto his back in the street. His vision blacked out. The sharp pain was all he could register in the confusion of screaming bystanders.

“Professor!” Luke grabbed his hand, which was turning pale from the shock, “Professor, can you hear me? Are you okay? _Wake up!”_

Layton tried to focus on the sound of Luke's panicked voice. He tried to reach out, tried to say something, but he was quickly shutting down. All that came out was harsh, irregular breathing.

The world was still completely black. His hearing was muffled. He was losing his grip.

The last thing he registers before losing consciousness is the distant wine of police sirens.

***

Layton awoke to the sound of a heartbeat monitor, slowly counting each beat as it kept track of his weak pulse. His eyelids felt heavy, and he could hardly feel his limbs as his thoughts were slowed to a crawl.

Beat. Beat. Beat.

The next thing he became aware of was the hot sticky bandages on the back of his head and around his shoulders and back. The memories were coming back to him slowly, and he realized that something was holding him just above the bed in a sitting position, enough that anyone could have access to the bandaging if they wanted. Three more beats. He counted them.

Beat. Beat. Beat.

It took him one more second to realize that someone was sitting on the mattress beside him. It wasn’t hard to guess who that might be.

“Luke!”

Luke looked up at the sound of Clark Triton’s voice, “Dad...”

“Are you alright!? I came as soon as I heard!”

Layton tried to move his mouth with any sense of coherence, _“Luke?”_

“Professor!” Luke shifted further onto the bed, “I’ve been here all day! Are you okay!? Don’t scare me like that!”

Layton squeezed his eyes shut as he attempted to lift his arms. They were too heavy, so all he ended up actually accomplishing was making them shake uncontrollably.

A small hand slipped into his, “Are you awake?”

Layton focused on his sporadic thoughts. It was difficult to breathe, but he tried to anyway. In and out. Slowly.

Beat. Beat. Beat.

“Yes, I’m awake.” he finally said, softer than he would have liked, “Though I am incredibly confused. What happened?”

“You flew through the window.” Luke rubbed his eyes with the sleeve of his sweater, “That criminal picked you up like you weighed nothing! I tried to wake you up, but I think you were in shock and there was so much blood...” he shuttered. “I thought you were going to die. I thought that the whole way here.”

Layton was recalling each event that had transpired before waking up here. He remembered the robber, the fight, the broken glass...

“I'm so sorry you had to see that.” he tried lifting his head from whatever was holding him in place, but he was simply too weak, “You rode in the ambulance?”

“Of course I did! I wasn't going to leave you when you could have died at any moment!”

Layton forced himself to wake up the rest of the way, tightening his free hand into a fist.

That was when he noticed something.

“Hershel, is it true?” Clark sat down at his other side, “Did you fight a bank robber? Did he throw you through the window?”

Layton didn't hear him. His mind was reeling from the lack of sensory input. He blinked a few times. Still nothing.

Clark leaned forward, “Hershel?”

_“Am I blind?”_

The words came out so hushed. He had hardly breathed it aloud, but it echoed through his mind like a broken record. He cast his eyes all around the room, knowing all about harsh hospital lights from previous visits, but even though he swore his eyes hurt from the light, the world around him remained completely dark.

Nobody spoke, so he tried again, stronger this time, “Did the impact blind me?”

Clark sighed, “Luke, what exactly did the nurse say?”

“Um,” Luke's grip on the professor's hand tightened, “H-He said that the Professor suffered massive brain damage when his head hit the pavement. Combined with the broken glass, it almost gave him a...hem...hem-o-rrha-gic stroke? Whatever that is. Anyway, he said the damage was bad enough that the professor would likely never see again.”

“Never?” Clark was clearly horrified, even if Layton couldn't see him, “He'll probably be blind for the rest of his life?”

Luke gulped, “That's what he said.”

Layton wasn't entirely sure how to process this information. On one hand, blind people weren't necessarily crippled. They could live perfectly normal and happy lives as long as they were accommodated in a world were most people could see, but...

He just never imagined it would happen to him.

He grit his teeth when another sensation hit him; Pain. As he was waking up, the bandaged wounds on his body were flaring up like they were on fire. It wasn't as bad as before, but it was demanding his attention nonetheless. The monitor sped up in response to his distress.

_Beat. Beat. Beat._

“Why does it hurt so much?” Layton lifted his arm to touch the bandaging on his head. It was dry of blood on the outside, but even touching it with delicate movements was making the pain worse.

“That'll be the painkiller wearing off.” Luke left the bed to stand up, “Should I ask them to get more?”

“That would be ideal.” Layton let his arm fall to his side. How was he going to live like this? How much longer would he have to stay here before he could even walk again? Sure, the crippling weakness would be stifling, but even if his body made a full recovery, what would he do about his eyes?

“Hey.” Clark set a gentle hand on Layton’s shoulder, “I'm so sorry, but you can make it through this, alright? You're alive, that's what matters right now. The rest can come later.”

Layton realized he wasn't breathing thanks to the pain, so he forced himself to inhale so he could answer, “Thank you, Clark.”

He heard footsteps as the door was opened wider, and a second later he heard something to his left, and the pain began to ease up. He sighed in relief.

“Is that better?” Luke's voice again.

“Yes. Very much so.” He felt Luke's hand return to his own, and this time he had enough strength to give it a gentle squeeze.

“Heheh.” Luke sniffed again, holding onto the professor's forearm like a lifeline. Layton imagined he was smiling.

“Hey guys, visiting hours are almost over.”

“You can't make me go!” Luke leaned into Layton’s side, “I'm staying all night!”

“Luke...” Clark warned.

“He's your friend too, Dad! Don't you understand!? He's only been blind for less than a day, I can't leave him now!”

Layton held the boy close with one arm as he began to cry, “Luke.”

“I'm not leaving you, Professor! You can't make me!”

“Luke, listen to me.” Layton whispered, “That’s it. Hush now.”

Luke buried his head in the crook of Layton’s neck, but he did slowly start to calm himself.

“I'm not going anywhere.” Layton soothed, “I know you saw something frightening happen to me, but you don't have to be with me twenty four hours a day to know that I'm in good hands.”

Luke's voice was muffled by the fabric of his shirt, _“But if you died while I wasn't here, I would never forgive myself.”_

There were sadly too many stories where a patient was perfectly fine in hospital only to spontaneously die when no one was looking. It was incredibly rare, but it was also rare to live at all after a shard of glass aided by the concrete tears your skin and cracks your skull.

Layton held the trembling boy closer, “Well, I don't plan on dying anytime soon, but is there something you'd like to say in case you won't get to say it later?”

Luke’s grip loosened just enough to pull away, and Layton realized his self-proclaimed apprentice must be looking up at him. He didn't bother to turn his head or even his eyes. What was the point if there was nothing to see anyway? He did offer a smile though, even if it was kind of tired.

“Um...” Luke twisted his fingers together, “You were always there for me, weren't you? I don't want you to be alone in the dark for so long. Just...” He rested his head on Layton’s shoulder, careful not to disturb the blood-soaked bandages, “If...if I have to leave, just remember that I will always be your apprentice. Oh, and don't die. That's important too.”

Layton laughed, “I'll do my best.”

Clark gently guided Luke away from the bed, “I promise you, we'll come back tomorrow.”

Luke gave a frustrated sigh, “Okay. See you later, Professor.”

“So long, Luke.”

The door closed, and the room was plunged into silence.

***


	2. Chapter 2

It was only about two days later when something new happened.

Layton was losing his mind. Completely static in the same basic place for hours and hours. No mental stimulation and especially no input from his eyes was certainly not helping, and when he realized he may never solve a puzzle again due to his visual impairment, he felt such a heavy feeling of despair that it nearly brought him to tears. He could live without his sight, but puzzles meant the world to him. Not to mention he was now on a weaker painkiller in an attempt to wean him off the other highly addictive sedative, so the dull pain was a constant buzz in his head when he had nothing to do.

Wait, what was that?

He turned his head to focus on whatever he was seeing. It was a single red smudge. It was joined by a yellow smudge, and then a blue one, blurring together like fuzzy lights. They didn't move after they'd appeared, they simply stayed where they were. He turned his head in many different directions, but the lights didn’t follow. They were just there, surrounded by an endless void of black.

The door opened, “Hey, Professor. Uh...what are you staring at?”

The lights slowly faded until they were back among the white noise, “I don't know. I can't explain what I'm looking at.”

Luke didn't think about it too hard, “Well, I have a surprise for you!”

“Do you now?” Layton listened to Luke fumble around in his bag, “What time is it?”

“Noon. I know, I’m not usually this late, but I had good reason for it!” Luke finally retrieved the item, “Okay! Hold out your hand!”

Layton did as he was told, and Luke gently took it to place something metallic in his palm. He let go when Layton brought it closer to himself, feeling its surface with both hands. It felt like a cube, made out of several smaller cubes. 5 by 5 by 5. He messed with it a little, and a piece broke off, a shape that was reminiscent of a Tetris block.

His eyes widened, “It's a-!”

“A puzzle!” Luke finished, “I realized just how awful it must be for you trapped in one room with nothing to do, so I figured I'd get you a special puzzle to pass the time, and it's one you've never needed eyes for anyway!”

“Luke.” Layton covered his face with his free arm as he laughed, “Thank you.”

“Of course. What are friends for?” Luke grabbed the piece that had been separated from the rest, “They're held together with magnets, so don't worry about them falling apart while you're working with them.”

“Luke, this is wonderful!” Layton pried each piece off the original cube, connecting them into a single, irregular flat sheet.

“I know. That's why I picked it out.” Luke lost his smile, “Hey, um...I start school again tomorrow, so I can't be visiting this early anymore. At least not every day. I'm sorry.”

Layton began experimenting with the pieces he now had, “Don't worry about it. Like I said before, you don't need to be here every moment of every day. I’m not going to shatter if you aren't here.”

Poor choice of words. Luke grimaced, “I know, but I _want_ to be here! As much as I can! I don't want you to be alone while you're still getting used to being blind.”

“So it's true!?”

A voice that Layton recognized. He heard several pairs of footsteps enter the room. One, two, three, four...

“Um, who are you?” Luke asked uneasily.

“It's Sadie.” Layton said, “She was one of my students.”

“Until I graduated.” Sadie rolled her eyes, “And you were the best professor I ever had, too!”

“We read it in the newspaper!” another voice, “‘Beloved archaeology professor! _Smashed_ through a window! _Blood and broken glass everywhere!’”_

Layton set his puzzle cube down, “There's no need for such a grandiose description, Jacob.”

“That's how the paper said it, but nevermind that! There are also rumors that you were blinded by the impact! Is it true!?”

“Well, he's not making eye contact.” a higher nasally voice, “I'd say that's a big red flag.”

“Matthew? How many people are even here?” Layton said.

“Just four.” Luke sat on the bed, “Are you all his students?”

“Yeah. These three graduated, but I got worried when all of Professor Layton’s classes were suddenly cancelled.” the final voice, a softer one, “Of course, plenty of other people wanted to visit, but we decided it would be better not to overwhelm you.”

“Ah, Lacy.” Layton nodded, “I hope you've still been studying.”

“He'll be alright.” Jacob chuckled, “Glad we could visit, Professor!”

“Get well soon, sir.” Lacy lifted something, creating the sound of crinkling plastic.

“Flowers!” Luke reached out to bring the bouquet closer, “Here, Professor.”

The smell made it to him before the plastic did. He ran his fingers over the soft petals, and for just a moment, he forgot his pain and his blindness.

“Thank you.”

“You're welcome. They weren't easy to get either. Student loans are bad these days.”

***

The lights were back.

This time, there were only two; Orange and purple. They just hung in Layton's peripheral vision, even after Luke appeared to keep him company.

“Are you ready, Professor?”

His assistant, Emmy, was holding her arm out to him, and he had both hands on it as he sat at the edge of the bed.

“I have not even attempted to walk since I first got here.” He was afraid his legs would give out the second he put any weight on them.

“Well, you never know until you try.” Emmy had her other hand around his back, where the wounds were close to being healed, “Don't worry, I'll catch you. You've seen how strong I am.”

“Quite.” Layton steadied himself, “Okay. I'm ready.”

“You can do it, Professor!” Luke stood by his other side as Layton slowly got up, leaning on Emmy for support until he was standing.

“That's it!” Emmy gently pulled him forward, “Come on, step by step.”

Layton took one step forward. He wavered, but he took another step, slowly easing his grip on Emmy's arm until he was holding himself up unaided. Evidently, he had the strength to walk, but he still couldn't see a thing.

“Hey, it's okay.” Emmy sensed his distress, placing both hands on his shoulders, “I'm driving you home.”

“Oh yes. I feel so much safer now.”

“Hey! I only crashed that one time!” Emmy teased, “Come on, the hallway is short. I can guide you to the car.”

“Wait.” Layton looked around the room, despite the futility of the action, “Luke, what happened to my hat?”

“Oh, I have it right here.” Luke pushed the silk hat into his hands, “I know how much it means to you, so I kept it.”

“Luke, thank you.” Layton placed the hat on his head. He had missed wearing it, “Have you been holding onto it this entire time?”

“I actually left it here on the table. You just didn't see because, you know.” Luke shrugged as he took Layton’s other arm, “I was going to give it back today if you didn't ask for it.”

Layton smiled, “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“Ah, it was nothing.”

Emmy guided Layton to the doorway, “Well? Don't you miss your flat?”

Every step forward was a shot in the dark. Layton trusted Emmy and Luke to lead him out, but he didn't trust his own feet. He expected to run into something, or fall or trip at any moment, but his friends didn't let him hit anything. He kept trying to look around as if he would suddenly see something, but all he could see were those odd fuzzy lights. He may as well have been in an obstacle course in total darkness with how nervous and unsure he was about navigating through the hospital to get outside.

He blinked. His eyes hurt after they left the building. Was it a phantom pain? Did he just imagine it?

“Ah, there's a step down right here.” Emmy stopped them, “Careful.”

Layton froze, gathered himself, and stepped down. He tried to stop his legs from shaking so much, but he didn't feel better until his feet were on the pavement below.

“Good. The car is right here.”

Emmy guided Layton’s hand to the handle of the car door on the passenger's side. This was easier. He opened the door and felt around the inside of the car until he sat down. It was only once he had his door closed that Emmy and Luke took their own seats.

“Emmy...” Layton reached out to feel the dashboard, “Is this my car?”

“I already had the keys on the day you were hospitalized.” Emmy started the engine, “I figured you wouldn't mind if I borrowed it for awhile.”

_Borrowed._

The drive home was mostly silent, and Layton was enjoying the familiar rumbling of the Laytonmobile. Even still, he had yet to confront the fact that he would never drive it again. What else would he have to come to terms with?

Oh wait, his flat was a mess. He would probably trip once he'd barely opened the door.

“Wait here.” Emmy turned the car off and walked around it to help Layton out.

From here, navigating was much easier. After all, he had lived here for years. He was much more confident getting through the hallways of such a familiar building than he was a hospital he'd only been to a couple of times in the past.

“Stairs here.”

But Layton had already let go of Emmy to climb each step with ease.

“Professor! You're doing it!” Luke matched his stride.

Layton laughed, for real this time. It was such a nice feeling, “Is anyone in the hallway up here?”

“Nope!”

“Excellent.” Layton took the last few steps to the door he knew was his, “Wait a moment...where are my keys?”

“Oh, they were on the jacket the doctors had to throw away.” Luke reached into his bag, “I forgot to give them back to you.”

Layton wasted no time unlocking his apartment, pushing the door open and feeling for the light switch out of habit. It was already on.

“Professor!” He was wrapped in a firm hug by someone he knew well, “It's so good to see you again! I missed you!”

“Flora.” Layton returned the hug before he pushed past her into his flat, “What are you doing here?”

“I was waiting for you.” Flora huffed, “I couldn’t just leave your apartment a mess the whole time you were gone. I even visited you a few times, but you were never awake.”

He _had_ spent most of his time in hospital sleeping, whenever he wasn’t distracted by the lights.

“So you tidied up my entire flat?”

“Well, it’s not like I have anything better to do.”

Emmy closed the door behind them, “She had help, of course. Honestly, how do you get any work done when you throw things into piles like that?”

“Urm...” Layton rubbed the back of his neck, “I just get invested and forget, honestly. I was going to tidy it the day I went to hospital.”

“Were you really going to?” Emmy walked further into the room, if the sound of her boots on the floor was any indication, “Or were you planning on putting it off?”

“I wasn’t _planning_ on putting it off. You’re right though, I may have anyway.”

“Um...” Flora waved her hand in front of Layton’s face, “Is something wrong, Professor?”

“What?” Layton tried to imagine what expression she wore, but her tone didn’t seem to reflect confusion as much as it did concern.

“Your eyes.” she said.

“What about my eyes?”

“I donno. They aren’t...” she tilted her head, “...focusing?”

“Oh, well...” Layton reached out to where he knew his couch would be, then he made his way around it to his desk, “You haven't heard?”

“Heard what?”

Luckily, the fossil he’d been studying was left alone in the tidying. His blindness wouldn't matter so much in this case. After all, he knew what limestone felt like. Amber, sandstone, the impressions of bones inside rock. He wasn't likely to need a career change, in other words.

“The rumors that say the assault blinded me.”

“Oh.” Flora shuffled her feet, “I mean, I've heard them, but you don't seem blind to me.”

Layton sat at his desk, fiddling with one of the rocks that sat in front of him, “Well...what If I told you those rumors were true?”

Flora gasped, _“No!”_

Layton cringed away from how heartbroken she sounded.

“I'm so sorry!” she held him in another hug, “I had no idea.”

He hadn't been thinking about it. He had been trying _not_ to think about it. The idea of never getting to see again. The idea that he would never do certain things again. Would he ever get used to it? Would it take a long time for the notion to stop being so strange?

He would never see again.

He pulled his hat down over his eyes.

“Professor?” Flora pulled away as Luke placed a hand on Layton’s shoulder.

_“Nothing, don't...”_ His voice came out too broken for his liking. He tried again, taking a deep breath, “It's still so new to me. I would appreciate if you all gave me time to adjust.”

“Of course.” Luke leaned against the desk, “Hey, it'll be okay, Professor. Don't cry.”

“I'm not, I...” Layton crossed his hands over the desk top, “I’ll...be fine. I just need to get used to it.”

Get used to it. Easier said than done.

***


	3. Chapter 3

He wasn't sure when he had fallen asleep, but when he woke up, it was to the sound of rustling in the kitchen. The sun must have been shining on him, because he could feel its warm rays on his skin. Dozing off on the couch was common for him, but rather than it being a result of researching late into the night as it often was, it was simply a matter of him over thinking the rest of his life and then being too tired to move to his bed.

He'd fallen asleep on his injury, too. Ouch.

“Hey, Professor.” Luke set something down, “How are you feeling?”

Despite his protesting muscles, he pushed himself up to lean on the backrest and rubbed his useless eyes, “Luke? What are you doing here?”

“Looking after you, of course.” Luke’s shoes tapped onto the floor. He must have been in the padded armchair, “Flora and Emmy are out, so I decided to stay until you woke up. Yes, my father knows I'm here, so don't ask.”

“Right.” Layton yawned.

“Are you hungry? I can make tea if you like.”

Layton considered refusing the offer, but Luke did know how to make tea. Maybe it could cheer him up.

“Tea sounds nice.”

“Mm.” Luke’s footsteps disappeared into the kitchen, where he retrieved the kettle and the leaves. The sink turned on, filling the pot with hot water.

While he was doing that, Layton planted both feet on the floor, holding out the hands he could no longer see. He had already thought up every possible scenario in his head while he was over thinking the previous night, so he had nothing left to think about. He would simply have to live like this, and the sooner he came to terms with that, the sooner he could move on with his life instead of being stuck in the past, stubbornly wishing he could have his sight back.

The lights came back. He looked up, but they weren't just lights anymore. He saw a single figure in the darkness, fuzzy but still discernible. It looked like Luke, about age 8, back when he wore a button-up shirt with suspenders and no tie. He didn't move or say anything, but the image didn't fade, and it didn't move with Layton’s head.

He didn't understand. If he couldn't see and Luke was no longer 8, that had to mean it wasn't real. Was it a hallucination? But he didn't just hallucinate for no reason. Was it his blindness? Was it possible for blind people to randomly start hallucinating?

“Professor?”

The image of Luke didn't fade away, but it did blur more.

“Um, yes Luke?”

Luke looked in the direction of where his mentor had been staring, but he didn't see anything aside from boxes and documents.

He put it in the back of his mind for now, “I made that tea.” He guided Layton’s hand to the saucer, and Layton took a grateful sip.

He grinned, “Belle Classic?”

“I know it's your favorite.” Luke took a few steps back, “So, did you need anything else?”

Layton took another sip, relishing in how much it refreshed him, “No, thank you.”

Luke took his spot back on the armchair, picking up what Layton realized must be a book, “Okay. Let me know if I can be of assistance.”

The image of Luke finally faded, leaving no clues as to where it came from or why it decided to go.

Layton shook his head of the image, standing to stretch his limbs. He would have to get a new jacket from his closet, as the old one had died a martyr. He was just glad his orange polo shirt wasn't the only barrier between himself and the broken glass.

And in the fight with the robber, he had nearly discarded the jacket to escape. Maybe he wouldn't have been thrown, but was that really likely?

He'd set his teacup down on the coffee table, so when he reclaimed his seat, he lifted it to his lips again. He didn't want it to get cold, after all.

After a few more moments of silence, Layton ventured a question, “What are you reading?”

“Huh?” Luke sat up straight, “How did you know I was reading a book?”

“It's simple.” Layton shrugged, “You love reading, and you can't sit still for this long unless you're invested. Even if you stayed in my flat, you would at least walk around.”

“Aha. A brilliant deduction.” Luke turned the page, “I'm reading a story about a puppet master who uses his puppets to kidnap children. Pretty standard as far as stories go, but I can't put it down!”

“A puppet master, eh?” Layton imagined that Luke wasn't even sitting in the chair. He always did this thing where he rested his head on one armrest and his legs on the other, even though he was too tall to do that properly anymore, “Sounds a bit close to home, does it not?”

“Well, a little bit, but there's this whole thing where the puppet master might just be a kid himself trying to find new playmates away from adults and the puppets are actually-! Oh, is that a spoiler? I don't know, I'm not even that far ahead yet, I shouldn't be speculating so much.”

“No, please speculate.” Layton took his empty cup to the sink, carefully hugging the wall as long as he could, “It's how we keep our minds healthy.”

“Be careful, Professor!” Luke ran to him to hover at his side.

“Oh Luke, I'll be fine.” Layton set the teacup down and then navigated back towards the couch, “I've lived here over five years. I'm not made of glass, you know.”

“Poor choice of words, Professor.”

Layton self-consciously touched the bandage that still stuck to his head. It hurt a lot less now, at least.

The front door opened, “We’re back!”

Layton followed the sound of stiff paper crinkling, “Groceries?”

“Good morning, sleepyhead.” Emmy carried two bags in each arm, “Your fridge is barren.”

“How did you know we got groceries if you can't see?” Flora carried one bag as she trailed after Emmy.

“What else would you be carrying in paper bags?”

“Hm. Not bad.” Emmy set the bags down to open the fridge, “If you keep that up, people won't even be able to tell that you can't see!”

Layton nodded approvingly, “I could get used to that.”

He took his spot on the couch as Luke reclaimed his book, and the girls began unloading all the food.

***

The hallucinations were getting worse.

Entire scenes played across his eyes as if he was watching a movie. The Golden Garden, his time as Dr. Schrader's student, a random date with Claire, an entire sword fight...he had no idea what was causing it or how to make it stop. Closing his eyes seemed to help sometimes, but other times the scene just kept going unhindered on the back of his eyelids. All he’d managed to figure out in that regard was that if he took deep breaths and counted down from twenty in his head, he could usually mostly ignore it until it was over. At least he never _heard_ anything strange, it was only visual.

“Professor? You finally awake?”

He jumped with a start. Rosa the housekeeper.

He must have dozed off on the couch again, and judging by the soft breathing nearby, so had Luke. Layton was slowly getting used to being blind, to the point where he was confident he could do most things by himself that he used to be able to do with his sight. It was still an annoying obstacle, and he didn't _like_ to be alone for long stretches of time, but he’d managed to pick up on little things that made life just that much easier.

“Rosa?” Layton sat up, straightening his hat, “What time is it?”

“Eleven thirty.” Rosa was heard rummaging through the few papers that had been stacked on his desk, “I'm honestly impressed, Professor. It's usually a huge mess when I come to make up the room.”

“Ah, well, I'm afraid I can't take the credit for that.” Layton stood up to grab his discarded jacket, “The girls did a lot of tidying up while I was in hospital.”

If he played his cards right, he could test his theory. How long could he go without Rosa becoming suspicious of his blindness? Could he simply pretend he could still see?

“That's the next thing I was going to ask.” Rosa set the documents down, “How was your stay in hospital? I read all about it in the paper, but didn't have a chance to visit.”

“Well, it was...” Layton slid into his jacket, pulling the collar over his neck, “If I may be frank with you? It was awful. I would rather not talk about it, if that's alright.”

“Of course. I'm just glad you're okay now.” Rosa moved to the kitchen, “I must say though, that is a nasty bandage. When do you take it off?”

Layton’s hand found the bandage on his head, “I’d...actually forgotten about it. It doesn't bother me anymore.”

“Maybe that's a sign it’s no longer needed.” the faucet turned on in the sink, and dishes clinked together as they were dunked in the water.

Layton hung by the entrance to the kitchen. He debated in his head about his next course of action. Holding a conversation was easy, because hearing where the other person was relative to the room let him give the illusion that he could see. He needed to try something a bit more drastic to really test if pretending long-term was even possible.

He smiled to himself, rolling up his sleeves, “Would you like me to help?”

“Huh?” he could hear the playfulness in her voice, “Now, what's this about? You don't offer to help me make up your flat.”

“Well, it _is_ my flat, so I am partially responsible for it.” Layton explained, “And I have nothing planned for today. Let me be a gentleman?”

“Alright, alright, I see how it is.” Rosa moved to the side, “This'll go by quicker with more hands anyway.”

Layton had to be careful here. He was going to have to stand close to her, which meant he might accidentally bump into her and give away the illusion. Therefore, Instead of simply walking across the floor, he found the wall he knew would be there, and subtly moved along it until he found the counter. Which side of the sink Rosa had moved to was a bit of a mystery as well, until the sharp sound of a dish being set down was heard and he could tell she was on the far side of the sink. It made sense, because that's where the dishwasher was, so all he had to do from there was move his hands along the counter until he found the sink.

All things considered, he was at a huge advantage in his little experiment. He knew where the sponge and the dish soap was kept, he knew how Rosa washed dishes, and of course he knew the layout of his own kitchen, so he had a vague picture in his head of what he was doing. He still had to touch everything on the counter far more than what would be considered normal, but it was something he couldn't help, so he was banking on the fact that Rosa was probably not scrutinizing his every move.

“When did you get back?”

Layton placed the next dish in the sink, “From hospital? About a week ago, I believe.”

“And when were you admitted?”

“I, uh...” he brought the sponge to the next plate, “I don't remember. I lost track of time in there.”

“Ah, I see.” Rosa closed the dishwasher to start it up, “I'll ask Luke, then.”

Layton let the last dish rest in the sink, silently celebrating his success.

“That's the last if the chores.” she led the way out of the kitchen, “If I may ask though, you seem just fine from what I can tell. Why haven't you gone back to work?”

Layton took a deep breath, drying his hands and replacing his sleeves. She deserved to know, and he had his answer.

“I wish I could, Rosa.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, “but...I'm afraid I have one more obstacle to overcome before I'm capable.”

“Obstacle?” he could imagine she was scrutinizing him _now,_ “Of what type?”

Layton smiled nervously as he pointed to his eyes, “I'm blind.”

She was quiet for a long time, long enough that Layton let his eyes drop to his feet.

“Blind?” Rosa was baffled, “As in, totally blind?”

“Well, yes.” Layton leaned against the wall, “Surely you've heard the rumors of my assault and hospitalization.”

“Of course I've heard the rumors, but you know I'm not one to take rumors as gospel.” Rosa fumbled over her words for a moment until she settled on, “You really can't see at all?”

Layton shook his head, “I'm still getting used to it, but it's easier than it used to be.”

Rosa was quiet again, but somehow it was a less tense silence than before, “I'm so sorry.”

“No, don't apologize.” He sighed sadly, “Look, I don't want you spreading this information, and I don't want you to treat me any differently than you always have. I'm still the same Professor Hershel Layton that you've always known, you just might have to step out of my way if I don't notice you there. Alright?”

Layton finally relaxed when Rosa’s laugh filled the room, “Oh, I see. You were testing to see if I would be able to tell you were blind.”

“You know me too well.” Layton sat on the couch, “Impressive, is it not? You couldn't even tell.”

“I had no idea.” Rosa agreed, “Well, I'd better get to the other flats. Take care.”

“You too.”

***


	4. Chapter 4

“Alright. See you then.”

The door opened and closed. The sound made Luke stir from his sleep, and he stretched his arms over his head.

“Good morning.”

_“Ugh…_ Professor?” Luke sat up in his chair, the new book he'd been reading tumbling to the ground.

“Oh, careful.” Layton picked up the book to set it gently on the coffee table, “Did you sleep well?”

Luke looked up to see that the professor had set a cup of tea beside the book before retreating to his desk.

“Is this for me?”

“Yes.” Layton began to mess with the work on his desk, “I think you'll like it.”

Luke lifted the teacup to his lips, “Oasis berry! Wait, you made tea by yourself?”

“Is that so surprising?” Layton said, a hint if amusement in his voice, “I used to make tea every day, you know.”

“Well, yes, but back then you weren't...”

He didn't finish.

Layton rested one fist on the desktop, “I can't just sit around feeling sorry for myself. A gentleman doesn't wait for others to act for them; We act for ourselves. I'm grateful that you have been mindful of my struggle, but just because I can't see anymore doesn't mean I'm completely helpless.”

Luke smiled as he took another sip, “I thought you might say that. Okay, I'll stop being so paranoid if that makes you feel better.”

He noticed the bandage on the professor’s head had been removed, showing off a bright white scar beneath the messy brown hair. It would likely be there for the rest of his life, even if it continued to fade overtime.

“Thank you, Luke.” Layton turned in his chair, “Is that the same book you were reading before?”

Luke noted the topic change, “No, I finished the other one. Turns out there was no puppet master or magic puppets. The kids were just distracted by fireflies and got lost in the forest. I mean, they had _me_ fooled.”

“Fascinating.”

“I know.” Luke yawned after he'd finished the last of his tea, “It was quite a twist.”

Layton drummed his fingertips on the desk. It was a hollow sound, partially reverberated off of other surfaces. It was incredible how much he'd learned to pay attention to sounds now that he could no longer rely on his eyes.

“Hey, Professor!” Emmy stepped in from outside, “You ready to go?”

“Go?” Luke bookmarked his page, “Go where?”

“Well, to Gressenheller of course.” Layton popped the collar of his jacket, “I've been away for too long. I teach a class in one hour.”

“Wow.” Luke rolled his eyes, knowing full well the professor couldn't see him.

“What? You aren't going to stop me, are you?”

“No, I'm not going to stop you.” Luke packed his book away to sling his bag over his shoulder, “I promised to stop being so paranoid, didn't I? I'm just impressed you're back on your feet so soon after losing something so big.”

“Ah, well, it's not so bad.” Layton followed Emmy out the door, “Shall we drive you home?”

“Okay. My house isn't far.” Luke closed the door behind them.

He watched in awe as Layton flew down the stairs and out to his car just like he did before the entire incident. Emmy was right there in case someone happened to jump out of nowhere obviously, but it was all the evidence Luke needed to determine that Layton knew what he was doing, just like he always had.

“Here it is.” Emmy hit the roof of the car, “Pretty fitting for it to be my car from now on, eh?”

“The Laytonmobile is _not your car.”_ Layton yanked the car door harder than necessary, though it was clear he wasn't raising his voice out of anger, “Just because I can't drive it anymore doesn't make it _your car.”_

Emmy shrugged as she started the engine, “Whatever you say, Professor.”

Once Luke was off on his street, (“Good luck, Professor!”) Emmy drove back through London to park in front of the building near the middle of university campus.

“East or west?”

Emmy met Layton around the side of the car, “What?”

Layton laughed at how genuinely confused she sounded, “Which parking lot are we in?”

“Oh, um...west I think. Which side is the statue on?”

“West.” Layton rose one finger, “Um...which way?”

Emmy rolled her eyes as she tugged him towards the building by his collar.

“Alright, I'm going. Thank you.” Layton stumbled enough that he gripped his hat to stop it falling, “If I trip on the curb, I could possibly consider it your fault, you know.”

“Aw, don't you trust me?”

“You crashed my car.”

_“One time!_ And I even paid for it!”

“That is true. I'll keep that in mind.” they entered the building and Layton took the lead, “I trust my office is in the same place?”

“Well, it wouldn't have _moved.”_

“Hershel!”

Layton stopped upon hearing the voice, quickly connecting it to a name, “Dean Delmona?”

“It's so good to see you again!” Delmona wiped off his glasses with his shirt, “Ah, forgive me. I knew you were coming of course, I just can't believe you're here when...well, let's not talk about that now. You have a class soon, don't you?”

“It's good to see you too, Dean.” Layton almost smiled at the irony of his words, “Emmy? Could you, uh...”

“I got it.” Emmy took his sleeve to lead him around the dean, “Sorry we don't have time to chat right now.”

“Of course! Good to have you back, Hershel!”

Layton climbed the familiar steps to the second floor, “It's good to be back.”

Emmy opened the door for him, as his office was near the staircase, “Don't worry, I haven't touched it since the incident.”

“Good.” It was actually in decent condition back then, so he crossed the floor with only some amount of caution, “Then my notes should be in the first drawer.”

“Which one?”

“What do you mean ‘which one’?” Layton paused at his desk to open the highest drawer on the leftmost side, “There is only one first drawer.”

Emmy huffed, flipping her bangs out of her face, “No offense, Professor, but I don't know what arbitrary names you've given to your drawers.”

“No offense taken.” Layton retrieved the thick notebook that was stuffed with bits of scrap paper and sticky notes, “These are my notes.”

“That's actually what I've been confused about.” Emmy took the notebook, knowing full well the scribbled notes would be about as decipherable as the ancient clay tablets he was studying, “How am I supposed to help you read these notes?”

“I thought that would be obvious.” Layton winked, “You're going to read them aloud to me.”

“I am?”

“Yes. You said you were my assistant, did you not?” Layton took a random pen from his assortment of writing implements, “And if I ask you to make note of something, then you can add that to the page.”

Emmy took the pen once she'd flipped to the first page, “What does this even say?”

“I know, it's not exactly calligraphy, but I know it's legible because I put considerable time into my writing.” Layton crossed his arms, “And it goes without saying, but I don't care how your notes look as long as _you_ understand them and can repeat them back to me.”

“You've really thought of everything, haven't you?” Emmy snapped the book shut, “Does this mean I'm going to be reading and taking notes in your classroom in the middle of your lecture?”

“Something like that, yes.” Layton held the door open for her, “Do you have any objections to this?”

Emmy adjusted the camera strap around her neck, “Not particularly, no. Where's the classroom you teach in?”

“I'll show you.”

Gressenheller was growing thicker with students the further they went into the building, which meant the risk of bumping into people was growing astronomically higher.

“Hey, Professor! Good to see you here again!”

“Nice to see you, Professor!”

“Professor! Hi!”

It was becoming a bit overwhelming, but he tried to smile and keep walking with Emmy at the lead. The carpeted floor made it difficult to distinguish footsteps and other sounds, so he was walking partially on faith and partially on the hope that Emmy knew what she was doing. Finally, he slipped out of Emmy's grip to walk the rest of the way.

“Hey, Professor, wait!”

He froze.

Something was in front of him. His nerves were shot, but he tried to take deep breaths to calm himself. How did he know something was in front of him? Did he underestimate how fast they'd been walking? He was afraid to ask. How could he have been so careless!?

“Um, Professor?” Emmy's voice.

Layton exhaled, “Yes?”

“The door is right in front if you.” she guided his hand to the doorknob. It was right where he expected it to be. No, that couldn't be right. He still couldn't see a thing.

He pushed the door open. He must be imagining it.

The classroom was buzzing with noise before he entered, but during the familiar walk from the door to the desk at the chalkboard, the noise died down. He turned towards the students, lifting the brim of his hat to look where he knew they would be.

He wasn't sure how to break the silence, until they did it for him.

“PROFESSOR!”

They excitedly broke into cheers. Some shouted their congratulations and relief at seeing him unharmed. Others said things like “I told you so!” and dissenting opinions about the man who dared hurt him.

Layton gripped the edge of the desk, finding his voice enough to say, “ENOUGH!”

They quieted immediately.

He was getting emotional. He didn't think his students would miss him this much.

“I apologize for raising my voice.” he pulled his hat over his eyes, “Thank you. Teaching is my greatest passion, and I'm very grateful to be back where I belong. Now...” he looked up to smile at them, “I hope none of you are unprepared because you didn’t really expect me to show up?”

A few clicked pens, a few tousled papers, he expected a few of them were unprepared, but the show must go on.

“Are you ready, Emmy?”

Emmy tugged the cap off her pen, “Ready when you are, Professor.”

“Excellent.” Layton slid his hand along the base of the chalkboard to find the chalk, “Now, where were we?”

***


	5. Chapter 5

Layton dusted his hands off once the board was clear of chalk. The last of the students had filed out of the classroom, and while many were suspicious of the professor's apparent return to health, they didn't ask about him needing an assistant to take notes for him, or the stark white scar on the back of his head. Some of them thought about it, but they also figured he wouldn’t want to talk about it either way. They couldn't have known how bad it actually got before it got better.

“Professor, that was amazing!” Emmy snapped the book shut once the ink had dried.

“Oh, it was nothing really.” Layton looked out in the direction of the seats, lowering his voice somewhat, “Is that everyone?”

“It was. You wouldn't believe it, Professor! They had no idea!” Emmy placed a hand on his shoulder, “Is this how it always is in your classroom? I clearly went to the wrong university.”

“Oh Emmy, don't say that.” Layton bashfully shied out of her grip towards the door, “You got my notebook?”

“Yep.”

The hallways were much more empty now. It was a slow day, it seemed, at least after the bustle of earlier.

“We drop this off, and...then what?”

Layton climbed the stairs, “Usually after a class I research to prepare the next one, but I think I just want to go home for now. That can come later.”

“Will do.”

Emmy stashed the notebook near the door before locking it up and helping Layton out to the car. She noted how tired he seemed. He was just teaching for an hour and thirty five minutes, and he pretended he could see the entire time, so it was no surprise he was drained.

“Okay, next stop then.” Emmy started the car, “And make sure you actually get to your room so I can have the couch.”

He smiled, “Whatever you say, Emmy.”

The sounds of London could be heard through the rumbling of the Laytonmobile as people and other cars made their commutes. As the two comrades pulled out of the parking lot, Layton was suddenly struck with a particular memory. It was one he hadn’t thought about in a long time. He'd been wearing his new top hat at the time when he got news of an explosion in an apartment laboratory.

No, it wasn't a memory.

It was-!

 _“Emmy.”_ Layton choked, suddenly finding it difficult to breathe.

“Hm? Professor!?”

Layton brought both hands to his chest. It didn't help.

“Professor, are you okay?”

He barely heard her. His heart was pounding, just like on the day he lost his sight.

_“Stop the car.”_

Emmy eased off the gas pedal, “What?”

“I said stop the car.”

Emmy quickly pulled over to the sidewalk, pulling the emergency brake and taking her seatbelt off to lean towards the other seat.

“Professor, what’s wrong?”

He squeezed his eyes shut, but it didn’t stop. He was in the car, he was driving through stop signs and traffic lights. He was being controlled by his panic.

“Professor!”

Layton shook himself from the fake memory. There really was a time when he drove in a panic, but it was nowhere near as bad as this.

“Emmy, I don't know why this is happening,” he let out a strangled cry.

“What's going on!? Come on, talk to me!”

He tried to swallow around his dry throat. The images still wouldn't end. He was still in the car. His hands were still shaking.

“Emmy, I need to tell you something.” Layton forced himself to calm down, running a hand over his forehead. He would never be able to figure anything out if he was panicking, “I have been hallucinating since I was in hospital.”

“Hallucinating!?” Emmy shook his shoulders, “Why didn't you say anything!?”

“I didn't think it would get this bad.”

Emmy sat back in her seat to put her seat belt on, “Okay, I’m going to get back on the road, and I'm going to take you to the hospital. Is that okay? Will you be fine until then?”

Layton nodded, “Just continue to obey traffic laws, and I'll be fine.”

He flinched when the car started moving again, but he took long and deep breaths, counting backwards from twenty, in and out.

In and out.

***

The images subsided by the time he was in the parking lot. Every step was agonizingly slow, and he tried to ignore the voices around him when Emmy checked him back into the emergency room, when he waited for the doctor, when they ran tests on him to determine the cause of the malfunction.

Now, he and Emmy sat in the waiting room, anxiously anticipating the results. He rested his chin in one hand, tapping his foot on the floor, while Emmy sorted through pictures on her camera. The tapping stopped.

“Emmy? Are you still there?”

She sighed, wrapping her arm around his shoulders, “Yes, I'm still here. Am I being too quiet?”

He didn’t reply.

She retracted her hand to continue sorting through her photos, making sure her fingers on the buttons made audible sounds. She switched the mode, hesitated, then snapped a picture of Layton.

“Huh?” he blinked, “What...did you take a photo of me?”

“Candid shots are my favorite.” she scrolled through the other recent snaps, “Don't worry, no one else will see it.”

He let himself smile a little, “If only I could see it myself.”

Another shutter sound, “You're very photogenic, you know that?”

“Well, thank you I suppose.”

She finally switched the camera off, letting it dangle from her shoulders. His smile fell, and he hung his head.

She gripped the edges of her chair, “What are you thinking about?”

Layton rested his free hand on his shoulder, like he was folding in on himself, “Isn't it obvious?”

“If it was, I wouldn't have asked.” Emmy pushed his jacket collar away from blocking his face, “You can tell me, it's okay.”

He didn't look up at her. He slowly sighed, closing his eyes.

“What if it's worse than we thought?” Layton massaged his temple, “What if some important piece of my brain has been compromised? Am I hallucinating because I'm losing my sanity?”

“No, that's ridiculous!”

He didn't react to her immediate response.

“I've seen you solve puzzles, create puzzles, make tea, teach a class, everything you used to do before this whole fiasco began! You’ve had to change so little of your daily routine around your blindness, it's as if nothing even happened! I guarantee whatever this is, it will not compromise any part of your intelligence or your personality.”

Layton tried to think about it, he really did, but he was already so tired he wasn't sure what kind if conclusion he could draw. It made him feel empty. Aimless.

“Then why is it so hard for me to see that?” Layton hid his face in his palm, “Such a puzzle for me should be easy, right?”

“Not necessarily.” Emmy crossed her ankles, “Remember, looking at a situation from the outside is different than being in the middle of it.”

It reassured him just a bit, “Perhaps.”

She didn't push the subject further. She simply let the two of them lapse back into relative silence as she made subtle sounds to communicate she was still there, until a short man in a lab coat came out of the adjacent room.

“Hershel Layton?”

The doctor ushered them into the room, where he had a couple pictures from the brain scan he took. At least that test wasn't so bad.

“Can I just say right now,” the doctor grinned as he sat down, “I've never seen such a healthy brain before. The connections between synapses is astounding.”

“Um.” it made him feel better of course, but it was an odd thing to say, “Thank you?”

“Anyway, please have a seat.”

Layton had a vague understanding of the brain at best. Well, compared to neuroscientists anyway, nobody _really_ understood the brain. What he _did_ know is that every part of the brain was constantly active, and the light spots in his scans illustrated this perfectly.

However, the very back of his brain was almost completely black, indicating little to no activity.

“Is that where the damage is?” Emmy asked.

“Yeah. The visual cortex is dark, see?” the doctor held one of the scans in his hands, “But considering the force of the impact that killed those neurons, the rest of your brain has made a near full recovery, Mister Layton.”

“Then...” Layton lifted his eyes hopefully, “What is causing the hallucinations?”

“Probably Charles-Bonnet Syndrome.” the doctor held out the scan for Emmy to see, “There's no signs of prior trauma, and you have no history of mental illness, so without those factors, it's the most likely explanation.”

He was familiar with the term, but just to clarify, Layton asked, “What’s Charles-Bonnet Syndrome?”

“It's a condition where those with impaired vision will vividly hallucinate for seemingly no reason at all, but here's the key;” the doctor took the picture back from Emmy to set it in its frame, “It never happens in people who are born blind. We only see it in people who recently became blind, leading us to believe it may be the brain drawing on _memories_ of sight to make up for the lack of sensory input. It's fascinating, but we really do understand very little of it aside from that.”

Layton sat up a little straighter.

“So...” his smile came back, “There's nothing wrong with me?”

The doctor laughed, “Well, that's a rather scant way to speak of it, but no, there's nothing wrong with you. In fact, with how much damage your brain had sustained when you first got here, it has healed far better than any of us anticipated. It just goes to show how well our brains can adapt given the right conditions.”

“I told you, Professor.” Emmy gave him a light jab with her elbow.

“Yes.” Layton laced his fingers together in his lap, “I am fortunate my hypothesis was incorrect, but if these hallucinations have a spontaneous cause, then how do I stop them?”

The doctor tapped his chin, “That I'm afraid has no simple answer. I would suggest that when you get one, stay calm and take deep breaths. Some people find it helpful to rapidly move their eyes, or to look to one side for five seconds before moving to the other. If it gets really bad, I could prescribe an anti-psychotic, but I doubt you'll need it. Sometimes even the knowledge of having this condition is enough to ease symptoms.”

Layton lifted his hat above his eyes, “I can't tell you what a relief that is.”

“I can imagine. Well, you're free to go, but be sure to come back if you have any more questions.”

***


	6. Chapter 6

“Professor?”

Layton leaned back on his chair, wincing when his joints popped, “Yes, Flora?”

Flora was sorting through the mail while Layton worked on his next lesson plan. Upon finding a particular letter though, she stood up from the couch to take it to him.

“This one looks weird.” Flora set it on his desk, “And it has no return address.”

Layton lifted it to find that it was no conventional envelope, and it had a wax seal. It wasn't one he recognized either, but from what he could tell, the shape inside the circle was like an exploding firecracker.

“You got one too?” Emmy dropped another letter in his hands, and it was identical to the first, “I already read it, too. It's absolute insanity.”

“Professor!” Luke burst through the door of the flat, “You have to see this letter!”

“What on earth?” Layton took the third envelope, “What is this? And they were all delivered personally?”

“And on the same day, from the looks of it.” Emmy tossed her hair, “Who does this bloke think he is!? Is he crazy!?”

“Luke, read the letter to me.” Layton gave Luke's letter back to him, who unfolded the contents and cleared his throat.

“‘Hey kid, you're Professor Layton's lad, right? It was your fault I was nearly caught, so I figured I would return the favor. Don't be late. Regards, MC.’” Luke's hands shook taking the second paper from the envelope, “And inside was this.”

Layton took it in his hands. He couldn’t see what was written on it, but it wasn't hard to guess what it was, “A ticket?”

“That was in mine too!” Emmy snatched her letter from the desk, “Except my letter was probably worse.”

Layton gave the ticket back to the boy, “Read it.”

Emmy put on a voice for her dramatic reading, “‘Hey, you're that debutante Professor Layton keeps as an assistant, right? You won't want to miss this. Don't be late.’ And I have a similar ticket to Luke's, here!”

Layton’s mouth went dry retrieving his own letter, “Um...who wants to read this one?”

Nobody spoke. Flora kicked at the floor.

“I'll do it.” Luke took the silver letter opener from Layton's desk to slash the envelope, then he set it down to pull the paper out and unfold it.

He took a shaking breath, “‘Professor Layton. How long has it been? I bet you don't even remember me. We should fix that, don't you think?’”

He paused. His hands held the paper tighter.

Layton folded his arms uneasily, “Is that all?”

“N-no, it's just...” Luke coughed, then he cleared his throat again, “‘We should fix that, don't you think? It seems my previous attack wasn't effective enough as a deterrent, so I'm going to fix that once and for all. Don't be late if you know what's good for you, and don't forget your precious lass. Regards, MC.’” he searched the envelope, “Oh, yours has two, Professor.”

Layton held his hand out to him, and Luke dropped both tickets into it.

“What does this mean?” Flora shivered, “Are we in danger?”

“Hey, Flora, it's okay.” Luke put one hand on her arm, “I'll protect you. That's what a gentleman does.”

Layton would have smiled at the words if he wasn't so disturbed, “What do the tickets say?”

“They're for an event at the Towering Pagoda.” Luke explained, “But why? That building is never used for events! As far as we know it's become a military building!”

“Don't say that.” Layton set the tickets on his desk, resting his face in one hand.

“Um, Professor...”

Layton lifted his head, “What is it, Luke?”

Luke was shifting uncomfortably, twisting his fingers together, “There's...something I should tell you...”

“Hm?” Layton turned in his chair to face the child, “Is it related to this?”

“It might be.” Luke scratched his head beneath his blue cap, “See, I've been wanting to talk to you about this for ages, but the day I tried to tell you, that man in the cafe sent you to the hospital. I wanted to try again, but it just...never felt like the right time.”

Layton understood that. There were not enough words in the English dictionary to describe how chaotic the past couple of months were for them.

“Well, I'm listening now.” Layton said softly, “What's going on?”

Luke hesitated before he took his notebook from his bag, “It was an odd series of cases. A man broke into several public establishments, seemingly after the money in the register, but every time some place was hit, the money was found in a bag nearby. It proves the robber was never after the money. He was looking for something else.”

He looked at the notes in his hands, but didn't really see them.

“The same thing happened when you went to hospital.” Luke hid his face behind the book, “Even though I was mostly concerned with you not dying, I did notice the perpetrator run away immediately after you hit the ground. He didn't even _look_ at the register, he ran like his life depended on it.”

A shiver settled itself in the back of Layton's neck. Not an explicit feeling of danger, but more like the feeling of being watched.

“He was after...” Layton lifted a hand to rest over his rib cage, _“...me?”_

Flora slowly put her arms around Layton in comfort, letting her head rest against his. Nobody spoke for a long time.

Finally, Layton inhaled, _“What's the date on the ticket?”_

“Um,” Luke let the book fall from his eyes to check his ticket, “It's in three days.”

Layton pulled his jacket tighter around himself. He gently pushed Flora away to stand up and cross the room. His glassy gaze was on the ground. He stopped a few feet away, his hands in his pockets, facing away from his friends so they couldn't see his expression.

_Twenty, nineteen, eighteen..._

Luke dropped his notebook into his bag, “Professor?”

_Seventeen, sixteen, fifteen..._

Layton’s hands shook as he pulled them into fists, “I’m burning those letters.”

“What!?”

_Fourteen, thirteen, twelve..._

“It's too dangerous. We can't risk being in the exact place that lunatic wants us in.” he hid his eyes under his hat, like he needed them anyway.

_Eleven, ten, nine..._

“Well, okay...” Luke frowned, “But he's going to come after us again. Won't ignoring him make the problem worse?”

_Eight, seven, six..._

“Who said we were ignoring him?” Layton kept his head down as he retreated to his desk to gather the envelopes.

“Oh no you don't!” Luke backed away with his letter, “I know this trick! You're going to go by yourself, aren't you!?”

_Five, four..._

“Luke, it's me he wants. I can't risk any of you getting hurt on my behalf.”

“No way!” Flora hugged her letter close to her chest, “I'm with Luke on this, you can't leave me behind again!”

“Even me, Professor?” Emmy just sounded offended, “Come on! You've seen me beat up people twice my size! Are you serious!?”

_Three..._

“Please.” Layton tried not to sound desperate, but his throat was sore from the stress, “Please, just listen to me.”

_Two..._

“You can't shelter me, Professor.” Luke softened his voice when he noticed his mentor's state, “Honestly, I'm thirteen now. Did you expect me to be a child forever?”

_One..._

“Please.”

_Zero..._

_“I don't want to lose you.”_ Layton fell to his knees, _“I don't want to lose any of you. Please.”_

Luke wasted no time dropping to Layton's level to give him a big hug. Flora was next, her arms around both of them, and finally, Emmy gave an exasperated sigh as she knelt next to them and held all four of them together. Layton’s arms were drawn in towards his body, both hands over his mouth. He wasn't entirely sure what he was feeling. Some mixture of despair and warmth, some wave of dread behind the love he had for the three people around him.

“It's okay, Professor.” Luke wiped the tears from his eyes, one arm still firmly around Layton's shoulders, “Even gentlemen cry sometimes.”

Layton lifted his hands from his face. They came away damp.

He took several deep breaths.

He counted down from twenty.

“Oh dear.” Layton chuckled, “How careless of me.”

“Professor.” Luke shook his head, retreating into the hug, “Don't say that. It's okay.”

“Why do you feel so much pressure to protect us anyway?” Emmy lifted one arm to push Layton's hat up his forehead, “What changed?”

“The situation.” Layton dropped his arms to his knees, “The situation changed.”

Flora used the hem of her sleeve to brush her own tears from her face, “What do you mean?”

Layton waited patiently for the hug to be broken before he decided to explain, standing up and straightening his hat.

“Luke saw it himself.” he found the couch to sit down, “The man that assaulted me could lift me over his head as easily as if I was a pillow. As terrible as the situation was for me, I was still incredibly lucky. I can no longer see, but I’m still alive.”

Layton buried his face in his hands.

“If it was merely his overconfidence and poor foresight that saved my life, imagine what he could do if he truly tried to hurt someone.”

The implication left the whole flat with a stifling air. Luke sat beside Layton while Emmy and Flora looked at each other with uncertainty.

Luke leaned against the professor's side, “I know it's scary to think that one mistake could kill someone so important to you, but did you really think going by yourself would be any better?”

“I would have had a plan.” Layton shrugged stiffly, “We have three days. That's plenty of time.”

Emmy ran her fingers through her bangs, “Professor, I have a hard time following your logic here. You wanted us to stay behind for our safety, but you don't think we'd be worried about you going to where that man wants you to be without even so much as the ability to see. By yourself. I can't see how that could possibly go wrong!”

Layton sighed, rubbing his eyes to dispel the rest of his tears.

“Why do you think I'm so upset? I knew you wouldn't have listened. At least if you three stayed behind, I could guarantee your safety, but I can't be safe until I figure out how to stop him.”

“But that's awful logic!” Flora collapsed into the armchair, “Your life matters just like ours! Running head-first into danger is not only reckless, it's honestly kind of stupid!”

“But what else am I supposed to do?” Layton’s despair was briefly replaced by frustration, “I would happily die if it meant the three of you were safe.”

“Professor...” Emmy knelt down in front of him to grab his shoulders, “If you did that, we would carry that guilt for the rest of our lives. Let us help you, please.”

Layton kept his gaze down. He was still afraid for them, but they did have a point. He was being unreasonable, everyone could see that.

“We're coming anyway.” Luke took Layton's hand in his own to give it a gentle squeeze, “I'll give my ticket to my father if I have to so you can't burn it. You may as well work with us to solve this puzzle.”

Layton sighed tiredly, “You do make a compelling argument. Alright, we'll go together.”

“That's more like it.” Emmy left the couch to close the blinds over the window, “Yeesh, how late has it gotten?”

“Nine o'clock.” Luke yawned, “I should probably get home. Sleep well, you three.”

Emmy joined him at the door, “You need a ride?”

“No, I took the bus here. They run until ten.” Luke left through the door, “I'll see you guys tomorrow.”

“Safe travels.” Layton stood from the couch, “I'm going to bed. Goodnight.”

It wasn't until Layton closed his bedroom door behind him when Flora said, “Goodnight, Professor.”

***


	7. Chapter 7

Layton ran his hands over his forearms for the thousandth time during the car ride. They had their plan, they had their tools, and now all they could do was let the scene unfold and hope there were no hidden variables they had yet to find out about. Hidden underneath his sleeves, a contraption held snug to his arms, ensuring he would be okay in the worst possible scenario.

 _“These babies could keep you safe even if you fell off a cliff.”_ his intellectual rival, Don Paolo, had told him about the invention, _“Try throwing someone who can defend themselves with this!”_

“Professor, they aren't coming off.” Emmy turned a corner as she drove, “You don't need to keep checking.”

“To be fair, they do feel kind of loose...” Luke’s gauntlets were a lot more obvious under his sweater, especially due to his size.

“Really? They feel tight on me.” Flora’s sleeves did even less to hide the somewhat bulky electronics.

“Alright, everyone.” Emmy pulled into a parking space and shut the car off, “We're here.”

Layton got out and waited for the other three, and Emmy took his arm to lead him in the right direction. This ended up being quite the event, where everyone around them stepped out of padded limousines in fancy silk dresses and suits.

Luke's eyes swept the entrance nervously, “I can't help but feel a bit under dressed...”

“You can say that again.” Emmy paused at the entrance, “You got your tickets ready?”

Inside was more of the same, except if anything the pagoda was even more exquisite than the guests. Nothing suspicious so far, but Layton checked his gauntlets one more time just to be safe.

“Am I the only one feeling incredibly out of place?” Flora tried not to let her boots scuff the ground.

Luke kept an eye out among the red velvet and gold, “Flora, your father was a baron. Didn’t he throw parties like this?”

“No, not like this.” Flora brushed her dress down, “I can't help but feel just one of these dresses is more expensive than my father's entire estate.”

“Yikes. That's saying something.”

Layton held onto Emmy's arm, feeling the machine concealed there, “Anything strange so far?”

Emmy lifted her camera, “Not yet, but I'm looking.”

The room was one detail away from looking like a classic fairytale, but the room had no windows, and it was lit entirely with light bulbs and not candles. It struck Emmy as an odd detail somehow, but she wasn't sure why.

“Well well well...”

The ball quieted, and Emmy zoomed her camera through the crowd to find the source of the voice, but as she discovered, the voice wasn't in the room at all. It was coming from speakers around the room.

“It seems Professor Layton took me up on my offer. You should be grateful, as if he had been a no-show, all of you would be dead!”

Layton squeezed his eyes shut as a gasp tore through the crowd. _Stop. Be quiet._

“I'm glad you four could make it.” the voice became more sinister as time went on, “Now, let's play a little game. Every five minutes, I will kill one guest of this stuffy party, unless and until the distinguished Professor Layton can find me. The catch is...”

A switch was flipped, and all the lights shut off.

“You'll be doing it in the dark.”

Layton’s head was spinning. The missing variable. The one he'd spoken extensively with Don Paolo about, and he still didn't end up being prepared.

“Professor! I can't see anything!” Luke reached out to grab his arm.

Wait a minute, it was dark.

It was _dark._

“Emmy, wait here. Luke and Flora, stay with her and do as she says.”

“No way!” Luke held on tighter, “I'm coming with you!”

Layton didn't have time to argue, “Fine, but don't let go for any reason!”

“You got it!”

Layton grabbed his wrist to push through the crowd, which was still panicking from the loss of light. And the threat.

“Be careful, Professor!” Emmy pushed through the darkness, one arm around Flora.

“Professor!” Luke laughed excitedly, “You can still see! You don't need the light!”

Layton found the wall, running along it to find any kind of doorway, “Precisely.”

This was familiar, moving through the dark. Normally, someone else helped him as there are some things you simply can't do without sight, but now Luke clung to his arm, relying on his experience to get them through. Of course, they ended up running into a lot of people, and he was sure to apologize every time he did.

Layton made it to the corner of the room to continue onward.

“What are we doing, Professor?”

“I simply need an idea of the size of the room.” Layton hated how slow his pace was, but it couldn't be helped, “I didn't get that when the lights were on. The first step is figuring out if he’s hiding here, and then we can check the rest of the floor.”

“But what if there isn't enough time? Surely there's a faster way!”

“I'm working on that.” Layton came to a doorway, so he made mental note of it and kept moving, “There is a quick way to search this room, but unfortunately it will take longer than five minutes. I only hope this man doesn't intend to follow through on his threat to kill people.”

Luke cringed, “He tried to kill _you.”_

Layton’s hand on the wall stilled. No, he couldn't panic now.

If they spent too long trying to figure out the best way to search the building, it could last too long, and people would be hurt. He would have to compromise.

It was at this point when they heard the first gunshot.

Layton froze, a cold icy dread sticking to his bones. He strained his ears, but they were ringing from the  
loud noise. All was quiet, until one person screamed, and others followed suit, running to find doorways to take them out of the building though it was too dark to see.

“Luke!” Layton squeezed his arm, “Are you hurt!?”

Luke's voice came out as a squeak, _“No. I'm scared.”_

“I know you are. I am, too.” Layton hurried to follow the wall all the way to the far corner, “But we need to keep moving. Come on. Deep breaths.”

Luke's legs were hardly obeying him, but he tried his best to keep pace.

Layton finally found the other corner, and his hands began to shake.

_“Professor? What's wrong?”_

Poor Luke was in tears. Layton lifted his free hand to touch Luke's face, brushing a tear away with his thumb, “This room is too large. It will take a long time to search it. Hey, Luke, it's okay. Hush.”

Luke took several long breaths. Each one was strained, but he kept trying to breathe.

“Good. Let's go.”

Layton found the third corner, sticking to the wall as much as he could. By now, the room was mostly empty, as everyone was in the hallways trying to get out.

Ten minutes after the ball began, the second shot was heard.

Layton paused again, trying to calm his nerves, “Luke?”

“I'm okay.”

“Professor!” Emmy's voice came from a few feet in front of them.

“Emmy! Flora!” Layton paused in the darkness, “Are you alright!?”

“We're fine.” Emmy said, “I've been through this room with Flora. We need to cover more ground.”

Layton had suspected that the man wasn't on the first floor at all, but they needed to be certain, “Can you find a way to search this floor for me? Luke and I will take the second floor. We'll come back down if we don't find him.”

“I'll do you one better. If we don't find him, we meet at the entrance over here. The one we came from? Then we can discuss a new plan.”

“Alright.” Layton turned to leave with Luke, “Stay safe! Both of you!”

“You too!”

Luke blinked when a sudden blinding light hit the room, then just as suddenly disappeared. It seemed Emmy was using the flash on her camera to help navigate in the darkness.

“Let's find the stairs.” Layton took the first open doorway he found.

“I can't climb stairs in the dark!”

“I'll help you. Just keep your wits about you, and we can-!”

Layton’s foot slid. He didn't fall, but he did halt in his tracks. In that same moment, the two of them caught the strong smell of blood in the air.

The victim of the first shot.

Layton closed his eyes. _Twenty, nineteen, eighteen, seventeen, sixteen..._

_“P-P-Professor...?”_

_“Deep breaths.”_ Layton whispered, _“We keep moving. Deep breaths.”_

Luke covered his nose with the neck of his sweater, _“Okay. L-Let's go.”_

The second floor was completely barren. After they climbed the stairs, they gave the whole floor a quick sweep. Layton heard no footsteps aside from their own, and so all it took was one broad search which came up empty.

Fifteen minutes now. The third shot.

“Hm? What's this?” Layton’s hand found a metal door, and it was unlocked.

“Professor?”

The room had tiny lights inside. Not enough to shine on anything, but it indicated electronics. Luke reached for a particular switch, recognizing some of the controls.

“AH!” Luke let go of Layton to shield his eyes.

“Luke! What happened!?”

“The lights are back on!” Luke squinted, his eyes having adjusted to the darkness, “Whoa, at least for this floor. I think we've found a control room of some kind!”

Layton roughly exhaled, “Don't scare me like that. I thought you'd been hurt.”

“Sorry.” Luke flipped a few other switches, “Okay, that'll make things easier for Emmy and Flora. You were right, this floor is empty. I can't control the higher floors, though. It looks like there are more control rooms on higher floors, so that's six floors including this one.”

“He must be on a higher floor.” Layton brought a hand to his mouth in thought, “Luke, I want you to go back to the first floor to meet the girls. I'm going up.”

“By yourself!? No, Professor! We talked about this!”

“We can't light the higher floors without getting to them first. I'm used to moving with no light and you aren't, so taking you with me will only slow the search. Get to Emmy and flora, the three of you will be safer together.”

Luke rolled his eyes, “Fine, but I'm finding you after!”

He grabbed a flashlight off the dashboard before he left, leaving the door open as his footsteps echoed across the floor.

***


	8. Chapter 8

Layton climbed to the next floor. The fourth shot, twenty minutes, was distant at this point. He felt something sharp rise up his throat, imagining that Luke had been hit, but he pushed forward. He couldn't think like that lest he compromise his focus. They would be okay. They had to be.

He was alone for long enough that he didn't notice when higher floors had windows. It wouldn't have helped much if he could see, but he had a distinct feeling of danger the higher he got. He felt like someone was watching him. His breathing picked up to the point of being hysterical. He refused to give up.

He stopped hearing shots. He thought the next one was coming any moment, but he never heard it over the sound of his own heartbeat.

Maybe he was just too far to hear them. No no, press on.

Finally, he heard a sound like a spotlight turning on. The feeling of being watched worsened.

“Professor Layton. So nice to see ya again.” the voice came from the center of the largest room where Layton was on the top floor, “Step into the light for me, will ya?”

Layton gulped, leaving the wall with shaky steps. He guessed where the light might be, and it seems he got it right, because he had the impression that someone familiar was standing in front of him.

“Ah, Professor. We go back, don't we? And now it all comes down to this...” his footsteps were heavy, probably on account of all his bulk, “Nice scar, by the way. You should thank me.”

Layton was pushed forward in a sudden wave of anger, “Why are you doing this!? I've never met you before! You don't know the relation I have with my friends! Why would you kill people in some sick game to get to me!?”

He was going crazy now, he was sure of it, but somehow, he had stopped caring two floors ago.

“Really? Oh, it's the hood isn't it?” the man flipped his hood back, “Come on. Look into my eyes and tell me ya don't remember me.”

Of course, it didn't help at all, so Layton decided to bluff, “I'm sorry, I just, I don't recognize you.”

“Really? Layton, come on!” the man slapped his forehead, “Fine. If ya wanna play it that way, how about my name; Mitchel Cracker.”

Okay. Oh no.

_That_ sounded familiar.

“You...” Layton’s shoulders slumped in disbelief, “You were one of my students!”

“Ah! See? _Now_ we're gettin’ it.” Cracker shrugged with both hands in his pockets, “In case your intelligence isn't enough to save you, I'll just tell ya the whole story. I had a scholarship at Gressenheller for my stellar performance in high school, so I ain't had much to worry ‘bout. One day, however...”

He paused, so Layton filled in the gaps, “I failed your midterm paper.”

“Exactly! And as a result, I lost my scholarship! I had te drop out to avoid breakin’ the bank! All because of you! I lost _everything!”_

“But your paper was a _disaster!”_ Layton held his arms out, “You didn't even list any sources! For all I know, it could have been plagiarized! It’s the same standard I set for all my students! Don't I list my grading criteria every time I assign essays!? How can you still be mad about this!? It happened twelve years ago!”

He was remembering now. For an entire week after he gave the failing grade, his office phone was swarmed with angry calls from Cracker and his eccentric father. It got so bad that he had to _disconnect_ it and refer to the school's public phone until it stopped, and it was an absolute nightmare.

“Twelve years of torture, my friend.” Cracker took a couple booming steps forward, “I don' get it. None of my other teachers ever failed me, why would you?”

Layton took a step back out of sheer panic, “Some of them tend to let everyone pass no matter what, but I can't do that. It doesn't feel right to let a student graduate if they haven't learned all the material. I didn't know you were on a conditional scholarship.”

“Excuses!” Cracker stomped on the ground, “I can't believe you won't even admit what you did wrong! I thought you were a gentleman, Layton!”

Layton jumped away from Cracker's lunge, sprinting into the darkness to try and get away.

“Oi! Let's get more lights!”

Luke finally reached the control room of the top floor, Emmy and Flora close behind as he used the flashlight to light the way. The lights were on in every floor except the top, and now they only needed one more.

“Is the professor on this floor?” Flora was a couple paces behind Emmy.

“He must be. He's not anywhere below us.” Luke grabbed the doorknob, “Huh? It's locked!”

“Let me see that.” Emmy tried as well with no luck, “Okay, stand back!” she reeled back and gave the door a massive punch. It broke clean off its hinges and fell into the room.

“Wow.” Luke whistled, “A metal door, too. Don Paolo was right.”

“Who goes there!?”

A security guard blocked the way in. The lights were on in here, and so Luke turned the flashlight off with a _Click._

They heard a cry of pain. It was a voice they knew well.

“Professor!” Luke punched the security guard in the gut to get him away, “Guys, look!”

Layton was pinned to the wall by his throat, his hat having fallen off, viewable through the glass wall in front of the control panel. He was putting up a fight, but he was clearly losing.

“Oh no!” Emmy punched the glass with all her might, but it didn't even scratch.

“Bulletproof glass!” the guard wheezed.

“Shut up!” Luke kicked his head, and he yelped.

“Professor!” Flora pressed her hands to the glass, “Emmy, get around to that room!”

“I'm going!” Emmy disappeared down the hall, and Luke turned on the lights for her.

“What should we do, Luke!?”

“I don't know, Flora. I'm trying to think.”

He saw as Layton tried to escape and find his bearings, but without his sight, he was sure to fail, unless...

“That's it!” Luke switched the lights off for the control panel room and the fight room, with only the corner hallway lights on for Emmy.

“Huh!? Luke, what are you-!?”

“Flora, we have to keep the lights off!” Luke gripped her hand to calm her, “The professor can't see anyway, remember?”

“Oh. Oh!” Flora laughed, “Luke, that's _brilliant!”_

“Oi! Who turned out the lights!?”

Layton pushed Cracker off him to deliver an uppercut, then he tried to flee, fueled by nothing but pure adrenaline.

_“Is this the right room!? Professor!?”_

“Emmy!” Layton found the metal door, “What!? It can't be locked, I was just here!”

_“Professor!”_

“Emmy, help me!”

_“I’m trying! Stand back!”_

Layton was grabbed from behind, and he screamed.

_“PROFESSOR!”_

“What's taking Emmy so long!?” Flora turned the map on, dim brightness of course, “I can't handle this! He could die!”

Luke slammed his fist into the dashboard, “Dammit, Emmy! Don't fail on us now! We're counting on you!”

“Luke, gentlemen don't swear!”

_“I don't care right now!_ We can't just sit here, we have to figure out what's happening!”

The doorway was swarmed with guards, “You ain't goin’ nowhere, punks! Turn the lights on!”

“No!” Luke punched the first one, but two more took their place, “EMMY!”

“LUKE!” Flora pushed through the guards blocking her way, “Luke, get up! We're staying together!”

A guard made it to the control panel to turn the lights on, just in time for them to see Cracker react by running to Layton and throwing him across the floor.

“PROFESSOR!” Luke and Flora screamed in unison. Luke made it to the control panel to flip the lights off again, but the guards made sure they could turn them on.

“Flora!” Luke struggled when one of them picked him up. He cried out as he threw his head into the guard's jaw, who dropped the boy in shock and agony, “Flora, don't be afraid to hurt them! You've got to fight!”

Flora instinctively lashed out when a guard tried to restrain her, punching him in the face before reaching for the lights.

“That's it!” Luke jumped up in the darkness to knock another guard off his feet, “Keep the lights off! We can do this!”

“Cracker, please...” Layton was cowering in the corner of the room, knowing Cracker would find him any moment, “Stop this. I'm sorry you had to drop out, but killing all these people?” he coughed, tasting blood in his mouth, “This is beyond overkill. Just stop. Let me go. Let my friends go, I beg of you...”

The machines strapped to his arms were at their limit. He feared they would collapse if this continued, despite Don Paolo's best efforts.

_Twenty, nineteen, eighteen..._

The terrifying voice was inches from his nose, “Apologize for failing my paper.”

Layton whimpered, tears streaming down his face and mixing with the orange of his shirt. He covered his neck with his hands. His jacket and his hat were discarded somewhere in the room, and it was so strange to be without them.

He was blind, hurt, weakened, and exposed. He'd never felt so terrified, helpless, and alone in his entire life.

_Seventeen, sixteen, fifteen..._

“I'm sorry for failing your paper.” Layton gasped, struggling to stay on his feet, “I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry for ruining your life. I'm sorry.”

It was bitter, and insincere. He didn't regret his grading criteria, but he did regret the lives that were lost. He did regret losing his eyesight, he did regret getting his friends into this mess, and he did regret not being able to succeed even now that he had extra help.

It was over. Cracker had won.

_Fourteen, thirteen, twelve..._

“Finally swallowing your pride to admit the truth?” Cracker laughed, “That's more like it. What is taking them so long!? OI! KEEP THE LIGHTS _ON_ YOU MORONS!”

“Professor!” Emmy finally kicked the door down to sprint into the room.

“Emmy!” Layton got around Cracker to run through the darkness. The adrenaline was wearing off, and the pain was starting to creep through.

“Flora! The lights!”

_Eleven, ten, nine..._

Once the lights came back on, Emmy grabbed Layton in a crushing bear hug, “Professor!”

_“Emmy.”_ Layton cried softly into her shoulder, _“You're alright, you're alive...”_

“Where's your hat!?” Emmy pushed him back to look at him, “Oh my god, you look awful!”

_“Are they alright?”_ Layton could barely hold himself up as he shook violently, _“Luke and Flora, are they alright?”_

“Does it matter?”

_Eight..._

Layton Froze, turning back towards Cracker.

“You stay away from him!” Emmy rose her fist.

_Seven..._

“Oh, don't bother.” Cracker's bright blue eyes glimmered in the light, “I got what I wanted. Although, you aren't the only one I have a grudge against...I could ask my guards to bring the boy to me.”

Layton saw something vivid just then. A hallucination. A familiar one.

_Six..._

_“I could be your apprentice!”_ a tiny eight-year-old Luke beamed excitedly in his memory, _“I want to learn from you! Please let me come with you on your investigations!”_

“Let us through!” Luke rammed his shoulder into another guard as he ran through the hallway, “Professor!”

_Five..._

Flora tripped, “Luke, wait!”

Luke turned to help her stand, “Sorry! Come on!”

“Children!” a police officer mowed through the guards towards them, “Where's Altava!?”

“Inspector Grosky!” Luke let go of Flora's hand, “This way! Hurry!”

_Four..._

“What took you so long!?” Flora said as she ran.

“The doors wouldn't break! And have you seen all those guards!?” Grosky flipped his hair as he ran past them with ease, “Extraordinarily impressive to pose a challenge to the great Inspector Grosky! But of course, not terribly.”

“Hurry! The professor's in danger!” Luke pointed ahead, “That door! GO!”

_Three..._

Layton was losing something. Something far more important than his sight.

“Am I riling you, Professor?” Cracker smirked, “You always were sensitive, weren't you? Maybe I'm simply having too much fun, but I just always found it funny that a child followed you around like an apprentice. And the lass? Is she an apprentice too, or is she just another child? Maybe we'll never know.”

_Two..._

Layton was trying to restrain himself. _He is only trying to get under your skin. Don't fall for it. You're out of it, you're free, don't jump back into the fray._

It was difficult, but god was he trying.

“You know what? I'm curious.” Cracker turned to shout, “Bring me the Triton kid!”

Layton snapped.

_One..._

“Don't...”

His mind skipped a beat. His perception changed.

_**Zero...** _

“Don't _HURT HIM!!!”_

Layton's fist collided with Cracker's chest. The sound of breaking bones filled the room, and the gauntlet on Layton's arm shattered into raw electronics. Cracker fell to the ground, hitting his head and knocking him unconscious.

“What in god's name is happening!?”

Layton blinked when something dripped down his forehead. It tasted like blood.

“Grosky!” Emmy grabbed her hair, “What took you so long!? We needed you ages ago!”

“I've already secured the base floors! Chelmey is leading the evacuation effort!” Grosky stopped in front of Layton and Cracker, “Wha-? Layton!?”

Layton was so close to collapse, but he couldn't. Not yet. He forced his mouth to move, though it was an extreme effort.

_“L-Luke...”_ he swayed, _“Flo-ra...”_

“Professor!” Luke gripped Layton's arm, “Your gauntlet!”

“What happened to you, Professor!?” Flora sobbed, “I'm so sorry this happened! You'll be okay! You have to be!”

Layton held to them as tightly as he could, but his grip was so weak.

_“Are, you...hurt...?”_ he slurred, _“Either of you...?”_

“Don't ask us if we're hurt!” Luke yelled angrily, “I've never been so ashamed to call myself your apprentice! I swear! Professor Hershel Layton, if you die I will never forgive you! We are taking you to the hospital, and you will survive! Do you understand me!?”

Layton let his eyes slip closed, _“Won't die. P-Promise.”_

And then he fell.

***


	9. Chapter 9

_Beat. Beat. Beat._

It was a familiar sound. He opened his eyes to the hospital room he'd grown accustomed to. He could see the room, but even though he swore he could feel machines hooked up to him, he saw none of that.

He grit his teeth. Someone was there. The one who gave him his hat. She smiled, placing a finger to her lips as she turned to leave the room.

He was too far gone in that moment to consider that it might be a hallucination.

“No, please.” his hoarse voice wheezed, “Don't go.”

“Professor?”

The hallucination faded. Luke was sitting beside him, a patch over his head from where he head-butted the guard.

“Luke?” Layton laughed, though nothing about the situation was funny, “Oh, what have I turned into?”

“Professor.” Luke took his hand, “You were pushed to the edge. Nobody could have handled that.”

Layton stared up at the ceiling, each memory of the previous day coming back to him slowly and out of order. He was dazed and confused, touching his face to find the bruise on his cheek and the bandaged cuts on his forehead. Both arms were wrapped in gauze, though they didn't feel particularly injured.

“I'm glad you're okay.” Luke sniffed, “Jeez. At this point, you're going to give me a heart attack.”

“Ah, Layton. You're awake.” the voice of Inspector Chelmey of Scotland Yard, “We have a few questions for you.”

Layton sat up a bit straighter, wincing at the soreness of his joints, “Alright.”

Someone else sat on his bed opposite to Luke. It must be flora.

“What's your history with Mitchel Cracker?” Chelmey began, “Why did he single you out? And what could have caused such a reaction?”

Of course that would be the first question. Events were still unfolding for Layton as he continued to wake up, so he lifted his hand, “I'm sorry, Inspector. My thoughts are muddled right now. Please give me a moment.”

“Of course. Take your time.”

Layton tried to reach back, though the memories brought him physical pain. He landed on one of Cracker ripping his jacket off and ramming his knee into his stomach. Ouch.

“Oh my...” Layton stifled his rising anger, “That's right, he was a student who failed his midterm paper.”

Chelmey bristled, “Pardon?”

“Inspector, Mitchel Cracker was one of my students. Apparently, he resented me deeply for giving him a failing grade, which lost him his scholarship.”

Chelmey rose his eyebrows, “What? Twelve victims, fifty guards, a million establishments broken into and terrorized, all for one failed bloody grade!?”

“That is what he told me.” Layton crossed his arms, relieved at least that he was in better shape than the previous times he had visited, “I was under a lot of pressure to give him a passing grade. My fellow professors gave him what he wanted, but I wasn't just going to hand it to him. I wanted him to earn it.”

“But he didn't, eh?” Chelmey scratched his chin, “You gettin’ this, Barton?”

“Yes sir!” the sounds of a scratching pencil filled the room.

“Right. Next, I simply need you to confirm something for me.” Chelmey continued, “Witness statements say the party was going well until the speakers turned on to explain a little, ‘game’. All the lights cut out and a gunshot was heard every five minutes until you could locate the bloke. He ended up claiming twelve lives, which would mean you were searching for him for just over an hour before he was found. Does this add up with what you remember?”

Layton gripped the bed sheets that lay over his legs. He surprised himself when a single tear rolled down his cheek. An entire hour? No wonder he went so far off the deep end.

Realizing he still hadn't answered, he opened his mouth, “Yes, that's correct.”

“I'm sorry if this is painful to recall, but we really do need as accurate information as possible.” Chelmey paused to let Barton catch up, “A fellow officer informed me that you were the one to knock Cracker unconscious, which puts you under some suspicion. What had been happening before that?”

“Well, he tried to kill me-!” Layton bit his tongue. Now was not the time to lose his composure, “I...I honestly don't know what came over me, I just...he threatened to hurt Luke and I...”

He didn't even really remember it. All he could perceive in that moment was his wild desperation; All of the pain and fear that had accumulated over the course of the past few months was unleashed into his final punch. An uncharacteristic act of malicious violence. He wasn't thinking at all. He just wanted Cracker rendered harmless.

“I...” Layton let his head fall, attempting to hide his expression from the inquisitive officer, “I am ashamed of what I did, but I don't regret it.”

Luke covered his eyes with one hand, “Professor...”

Chelmey thought for a moment, “So you admit to it, then?”

“I see no reason not to.” a sudden jolt of horror straightened his spine, “Wait, he didn't die, did he!?”

“No, he didn't die, but he will be in hospital for awhile until we can arrest him. I only wish we could've gotten inside sooner. Sorry about that.”

Layton’s legendary brain was finally catching up, “I doubt it would have helped. It was pitch-black inside, and I found no evidence that there were any snipers within the building.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. Why? Was I mistaken?”

“Well, we do have plenty of men in our custody who are suspected of being the shooters, but though the victims were definitely shot with something, there was no other evidence of a gun at the scene of the crime.” Chelmey shrugged as he turned to leave, “I only tell you this because you've been helpful to us in the past, and if you can help us with any details, well...you deserve to have the full story. But enough about that, I'll let you rest for now.”

His footsteps faded down the corridor, Barton not far behind.

“You really are a lost cause, Professor...”

“Hm?”

Luke's eyes were hidden beneath the rim of his blue cap, until he shouted, “You're an _idiot!”_

Layton reeled back.

Flora cringed, “Luke! Don't yell in a hospital!”

“I can't _believe_ that after all of that, when your face and arms were covered in blood and you could barely even stand, you had the _nerve_ to ask us if we were hurt!” Luke kept on shouting like he would never get another chance, “Trust me, Professor, seeing you like that is the worst pain I've ever felt! _Never_ do that to me _again!”_

Layton leaned forward to gather the sobbing boy into his arms, “Luke, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you, I was just so...”

Luke nodded in the embrace, “I know. We all were. Just don't do that again. No more near-death experiences, okay?”

Flora joined in the hug, and Layton wrapped his arms around both of them.

“Okay.” Layton shook with unresolved tension, “No more near-death experiences.”

Luke waited for a second, “And...?”

“And?” Layton’s grip loosened so the children could look at him, “What else is there?”

“You're professor Layton.” Luke said simply, “You can figure it out.”

In response, Layton reached further back in his memory for any other reasons Luke could be upset with him. His attention landed on the crumpled ticket he knew was still in his pocket.

“And...no more doing things by myself.” Layton recalled all the time he'd spent in the dark all by himself, an involuntary shiver running through him, “I never should have split us up. I was only putting myself in more danger. I’m sorry.”

That seemed to be the right answer, because Luke’s voice lost all its careful hostility, “Good, and make sure you actually remember that, or my name isn't Luke Triton.”

Layton leaned back against the pillows, feeling more exhausted than he ever had in his whole life. The ache in his muscles and joints, the way his heartbeat pounded against his growing headache. No amount of all-nighters could have given him such a need to rest as everything that had transpired, but he wasn't quite done talking yet.

“I thought you'd been shot.”

Luke flinched away, his hands still holding tight to the professor's.

“I heard a gunshot so close to where you'd left to. I almost expected to hear you scream.” Layton let the tears fall freely, not in despair this time, but in pure elating relief, “The whole way up the tower, I was afraid that I’d missed him on a lower floor, and now he would find you and kill you. I tried not to think about it, but I was so sure I would lose all of you, without even a chance to say goodbye...”

His voice was too shaky to continue. He covered his face with both hands. Layton was no stranger to grief. He had lost so many loved ones over the course of his life, but even when he thought he could live with the growing void in his heart, just when he was sure he'd gotten used to it, someone else would be taken and the grief would be back like an unwelcome guest.

“I'm so happy...” Layton lifted his hands so the children could see his true, genuine smile, “...that wasn't the case.”

“Professor...” Flora dabbed at her eyes with her sleeve.

Luke laughed, wiping his own tears away, “I understand. If you died, I don't know what I would do...”

Layton’s tears stopped in response to his exhaustion, “Let's not think about that now. All four of us made it out with our lives. If you ask me, that's cause for celebration.”

“Celebration?” Emmy poked her head into the room, “I'm up for that after going through hell...Professor, have you been crying?”

Layton relaxed, his fingers trailing the bruise on his face, “Yes. Even gentlemen cry sometimes.”

Emmy smiled as she knelt by the bed next to Luke, and the four shared one last hug before Layton finally drifted into beautiful, dreamless sleep.

A feeling of calm washed over him. They were okay.

He was okay.

THE END


End file.
